Something Kind of Wonderful
by Aserne
Summary: College AU based off this prompt: Castiel was outspoken in high school while Dean was the shy one, but ever since Cas tried to kiss him their worlds completely flipped over. Now in college, Cas is a recluse and Dean is shining. When the two are partnered up for a five month trip around Europe, how will they cope? Will ends meet?


**August**

Castiel Novak was twiddling his thumbs in the back of the lecture hall. Dust collecting on the seats beside him. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose before looking down at his blank notebook and wondering what he was exactly doing here.

The professor, Mr. Singer, was projecting pictures of scenery that caused his stomach to cartwheel. Was it that he simply didn't sleep enough last night or that these were the wrong prescription? Perhaps the dark lights caused a vertical shift in his mood. Castiel was more than sure that a cup of coffee counted as breakfast so he was good in that department.

If he checked out everywhere else then what possibly had his stomach flip flopping like hamburger patties?

Perhaps it was the fact that Dean–_fucking– _Winchester was sitting three rows in front of him next to Jo Harvelle. The thought of watching him from afar was a bit creepy in various lights, but it didn't really matter if you knew the person was never going to look back anyway. There was absolutely no way in hell someone as cool as that would ever want or be interested in someone like him.

Looking at the man, Castiel took in how Dean had changed over the years. Back in high school he was much more reserved and hesitant about getting close to others. Dean would never openly laugh or smile about anything, and although he was rarely bullied, the kid was still scared of everything.

He remembers being one of the few people that Dean would opened up to. He remembers laughing and playing around, and joking about some of the dipshit students they were forced to share air with.

He also remembers fucking everything up.

It was a calm Saturday afternoon and they were relaxing at Dean's house. Reruns of popular cartoons were playing over on the television. His friends parents had taken Dean's little brother, Sam, out to go shopping and they were alone. Castiel knew better. He really did. And even if his feelings sung stronger than his common sense he should've never tried to kiss Dean.

That was how their friendship ended at sixteen. Slowly after that experience, his old friend was finally leaving his shell and putting himself out there. It hurt. It hurt very badly, whenever Dean would look his way and threw him a pitying glance. He didn't want Dean's goddamn pity, he wanted something sweet with a hidden bitter tang.

After graduation, Castiel cut all ties off from the real world and shrunk into the shadows day by day. He was most likely overreacting to everything. After-all Dean was only a small piece in his five-hundred piece puzzle. There were many people just like him in the world. The problem was, that all this hurt so much. And if going for a simple kiss ruined their friendship, then it was better to keep at a distance.

Castiel applied to an excellent university only a couple of hours away from his home a week after graduation and got in. He was happy and surprised and grateful that his mind could wander elsewhere for the next couple of months.

Unfortunately for him though, his life took another turn for the worse when his older brother Micheal had apparently found out about his homosexual tendencies and exploded. It was worse when their only surviving guardian and uncle, Zachariah, was informed through his brother.

His _privilege_ to attend university had almost been revoked along with a one way boarding pass to an all male Christian school. As if surrounding him with even more guys was going to really help. Gabriel had stepped in his favor, claiming that what he was going through was just a phase and with enough hours reading the bible and attending church, he would get better.

Castiel would have felt offended if his brother hadn't winked in his direction. Completely oblivious to Micheal or his uncle. He owed Gabriel his life and gratitude.

The rest of summer went smoothly, save for the dirty looks Zachariah gifted him with and some of Dean's friends looking at him like he was freak. By the end of July everything he could actually call his was packed away in three suitcases and one pickup truck.

So now, even if he felt a small heated dose of hatred pooling at the bottom of his gut, he was still admiring Dean from afar, and it wasn't creepy at all.

"Mr. Novak," a calm voice pointedly sounded towards him. Mr. Singer was looking at him suspiciously with raised eyebrows that made Castiel shift uncomfortably in his seat. Heads turned his way but from the corner of his eye he could see Dean still chatting with Jo.

A blush rose on his cheeks before he stuttered, "Y-Yes Mr. Singer?"

"You haven't touched your pencil once which lets me know you aren't paying attention. Now, write down these prices so you can work out whether or not to apply for a scholarship or pay from pocket."

Castiel nodded and began writing down the prices projected on the screen. He felt so embarrassed right now and it was apparent on his face too. The mortification of being caught red-handed.

Mr. Singer hit the podium he was reluctantly standing next to with a ruler. Those who weren't paying attention before were now. And when his professor opened his mouth, Castiel was sure it wasn't his day. Then again it never was.

"Do you know where we're going Mr. Novak?" The old man knew the answer already.

_Oh God, _he thought to himself repeatedly. "Um...no sir..." He cringed as the hall filled with insensitive snickers and chatter. Mr. Singer gave a tight lipped smile.

"Pay attention then. Can anyone tell me where we're going?"

Bela Talbot raised a perfectly manicured hand in the air, and not waiting for approval to speak, she answered. "Wales, sir. We're leaving on the fifteenth of September to study the culture, history, and traditions still carried in the area. Then England, Scotland, and Northern Ireland."

Mr. Singer nodded and continued on. "We'll be gone for more than half the school year, which has just started. I've spoken with the headmaster and you are _all_," he empathized the last word. "To get your homework, which will be checked by ever professor. If we find that you've missed a class a week before departure then you will not be going. No matter what."

The hall gave their understanding by keeping silent. Castiel furiously scribbled all the information down, the overall prices coming to about two thousand. There was no way Zachariah would ever lend him the money and most scholarship would pay half the amount.

When everyone began to pack up and left for their next classes, Mr. Singer was at the front making sure ever student got a copy of the schedule they would follow and a map with their route written out clearly. The next sheet of paper he got consisted of who was going to be partnered with who. His heart lurched when he saw his name and that oh so familiar one next to it.

As he turned around to confront his teacher a bundle of newer students were pouring in and he was thrown into the hallway. Confused, anxious, and wondering what the near future held for him exactly.

World history was definitely not one of his favorite semester long courses anymore and he would do anything, literally anything, to get out of this one if possible.

Solemnly, Castiel Novak put the notebook away in his bag and went down the hall. Head hung, sun streaming in through the corridor windows, and enthusiastic people barreling to their next class. Fortunately, all he had was a study period in the library.

The librarian, Lisa, often asked for his help on one or two things before letting him study in the garden. Although the library was calming, quiet, and smelled sweetly of old books, he preferred sunshine to the closed secluded area any day. When he arrived Ms. Braeden wasn't their and neither was her assistant. So Castiel simply put all the carted books in their respective places.

Well within the hour he had finished. In that time several fellow students had taken resident within the darkening corners. The sunlight was already beginning to fade and relief swelled in Castiel's chest. The day was over with and he could go home. He didn't exactly live in the dorms, since he couldn't afford it.

The walk home was about two hours. Time he could've spent trying to talk Mr. Singer out of his partnership arrangements. If he woke up at around four tomorrow morning, then there was a chance any attempts to sway the grouping might succeed.

Trees loomed gracefully over the sidewalks. They were the types of low hanging trees with strands of willow flowing from their branches. Like the kind you saw in movies. The trees were old and their colors resembled a pastel template. Dry and dusty but colorful in all the right areas. The grass, almost as tall as his knees, was dyed yellow and green like an aging caterpillar. Wherever the wind blew it did too. The grass moved like it was dancing on the edge, where the sidewalk met the forest. It was overly soothing to walk past here each day and just let all the tension flow...and strangely...it felt so familiar.

Not truly a good way to relieve the body of stress, but a temporary one. And it worked. Looking at the scenery gave him enough time to draw up a bath and soak, which added on any needed time for homework, essays, and his theology thesis statement. If there was any time left, which there _never _was, then he would take the moment for a cup of noodles.

Castiel's home was a beat up apartment complex far from his school. It was cheaper than the dorms nonetheless, even if there wasn't any heat, a place for cable or internet, and hot water. He was grateful to God for what he had, not what he wanted or didn't have. It was more than half of the earth's population got and he loved it dearly.

The maple colored walls were breaking, the paint peeling, and the decorative trimming was falling to pieces. The walls and floors were so thin it was impossible to _not _here whatever was going on in all directions. Even thought the landlord told him that the most he was allowed, electronic wise, was his laptop, and a microwave. His insides curled though when the sounds of television were being blasted next door.

In the living room a small cracked coffee table and two matching sets of furniture made up the area. The couch had a large spring in it right in the middle which made it difficult to sit on. The frame was crumbling from the inside so sometimes he could feel a poke in his back. The smaller chair on the other side of the room was missing a leg, so of course it was more than awkward trying to relax in it. But the pieces of furniture were one day thrown out at a dumpster nearby and he just had to had them. It was a steal.

His bedroom was depressing. With two small windows that didn't open and a twin sized bed clearly worn out and used to the best of it's ability. Above the bed was a singular silver cross. It just happened to be one of the things that was with him, in his suitcase. Probably Gabriel's doing as it was their mothers once upon a time.

Later on that night, when he drew his covers pass his ears and under his eyes, Castiel took in a deep breath and sighed. The world was a difficult place he would be able to get use to.

The broken radiator rumbled in agreement before letting it's sound echo throughout the cold apartment. The floor above him was set into a comfortless rhythm, the boards screeched and creaked. Water from the upstairs shower leaked onto his nightstand and the cold air hummed in satisfaction.

That night he didn't dream and he didn't remember.

Why would he?


End file.
